


With This Line (True Love’s Fist)

by sweetiejelly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Humor, M/M, Rhyming, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With this line, I thee bind<br/>To speak in rhyme, my prince.<br/>Till true love’s fist – <i>kiss!</i> –<br/>Shall at last the spell unwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With This Line (True Love’s Fist)

**Author's Note:**

> With apologies to Shakespeare.

Princess Juliet has marvellous fiery hair that looks like it’s hiding the sun inside. That should have been Merlin’s first clue. Alas, he’s too busy staring as her procession pulls up from the East. 

“Close your mouth, Merlin.” Arthur sounds none too happy. This is, after all, yet another matchmaking attempt by the king. 

Because the ones before went so well. 

Close yours, Merlin retorts in his mind. Not that Arthur’s mouth is even open, pinched as it is. Prat. Unlike the previous parade of princesses, Princess Juliet more than lives up to _her_ reputation. She’s practically glowing as she rides nearer and nearer. 

Before Merlin could say as much, King Uther steps forward to greet their guests. "Welcome. Welcome to Camelot!" The king's voice booms across the courtyard, no less potent pronouncing welcomes as when doling out death sentences. One might even call it charming, if one doesn't know any better. 

Merlin fidgets, gripping his hands stiffly behind his back. He could act the part and stay out of the way like a proper servant should. He could. 

Sometimes he could. 

Well, most times? 

As if reading his thoughts, Arthur half turns and pins him with a look as if daring him to fall down the steps like a fool. Merlin rolls his eyes and defies his prince. 

So he bumps into Arthur, but only a _little_. 

Then there’s actual work to do. Of course there is. Arthur _volunteers_ him. Merlin grimaces a smile and starts lugging boxes after boxes of gifts and clothes and hopefully _not_ weapons up to the guest rooms. 

“Can you believe him? Not only does he leaves me with that-that _nurse_ , Arthur acts like it’s such a _task_ to escort only the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life around the castle. Ugh, my back! I think I pulled something.” Merlin prostrates over the table and nearly knocks Gaius’ soup off. 

Gaius calmly moves his bowl to a safer spot and arches an eyebrow. “Eat your soup, Merlin. You know full well the pressure that Arthur’s under to make a good alliance for the kingdom’s sake. This isn’t about love, however pretty the young lady in question may be. Speaking of the princess, you would do well to remember your station, Merlin. She’s a prin _cess_.” 

“I know.” Merlin sighs and pillows his hands under his chin. “Princess Juliet.” She retired early after supper and Merlin has not had a word of conversation with her, but he would bet she’s lovely, just lovely. 

~~ 

Princess Juliet is not lovely. Princess Juliet is _very_ lovely. Besides being as gossamer gorgeous up close as far away, she gets under Arthur’s skin like fire ants or gods, like the meanest gnats! Arthur’s stony glares and tamped down fury are a sight to witness. Really, it’s the best part of Merlin’s day. 

The Princess, it seems, is going through a poetry phase. She speaks in nothing but rhymes. It starts out adorable but quickly turns irritating. Watching Arthur suffer through it all though tilts the scale firmly back to _wonderful_. 

Right now the Princess is walking along the river bank, picking wild flowers. “For Guinevere and her lady Morgana,” she says. “Oh, I hope these will make them go bananas!” 

Merlin turns away to heave a silent laugh. Arthur gives him no such reprieve though and grips his shoulder hard. “Merlin, a word.” 

Merlin tumbles after him and looks back in time to catch Juliet tilting her head at them thoughtfully. He grins and tries to wave at her. Arthur just tugs him faster up the hill and releases him - _thump_ \- against a tree. 

"Merlin!" Arthur stabs at the air just before Merlin's chin. 

Merlin looks down. Arthur's hand is fascinating as always – a knight's hand, calloused just so and tanned and flexible. When Merlin looks up, Arthur's eyes are a furious blue. "Stop _flirting_ with the princess. She's _not_ interested." 

"In you maybe," Merlin nods to the grass. He's pretty sure they'd agree with him. 

" _Mer_ lin!" Arthur snaps, making him jump. "Do you _want_ to lose your head?" 

Merlin swallows around his unease as he thinks of his magic, of how close to the heart of the matter Arthur's getting. He shakes his head. "No." 

Arthur searches his face for a moment before pulling back. "Good. She's driving me mad already. Bananas! I don't need you to- to interfere!" 

"Yes, sire." 

Arthur stares at him for another beat before sighing heavily and trudging down the hill back to the princess Juliet. 

"Bananas," Merlin mutters to himself, smiling. He rather thinks he will lay out the bananas from the picnic basket as the centrepiece. 

~~ 

"Look how brightly yellow they curve! What a pretty divider they serve!" 

Merlin could only grin at the Princess and bow a little bow. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the way Arthur's face contorts and turns away to hide a discreet snort. 

~~ 

According to her nurse, the Princess Juliet has trouble sleeping through the night. Merlin and Gaius exchange a look. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." Gaius nods diplomatically. 

It's long after the nurse's left that they speak of it. 

"Morgana?" Merlin blurts. "Is she -?" 

The old physician places the newly mixed sleeping draught in Merlin's hand. "We do not know if it is indeed the same affliction as our Lady Morgana. We cannot assume it is. It is more likely not." Gaius' eyebrow seems unconvinced as it arches high into his hairline. 

"Let's hope you're right." Merlin grips the jar tightly in his palm. It has been a nice reprieve lately with the lack of attempts on Arthur's life. A little suspicious, sure, but nice all the same. 

He takes the stairs two at a time as he crashes through the castle towards the Princess' chambers. Two turns before he makes it, he's yanked off balance and pressed up against the cold stones of the wall. 

"What do you think you're doing? That’s the Princess' room!" The familiar voice hisses at him. 

Merlin rounds his eyes. Really, he's not sure what it is exactly about the Princess Juliet but she sure brings out an aggressive side of Arthur like Merlin has never seen before. "Delivering medicine!” Merlin brandishes his proof. “What- are you stalking her?" 

Arthur points at him again, threatening him with the one accusatory finger. "Shut up, Merlin. This is _my_ castle. I'm not stalking anyone." 

Merlin just stares. "Of course not." 

"Right then." Arthur backs up, frowns at the bottle in Merlin's hand, and stomps off. 

Before he gets very far, however, Princess Juliet's voice rings out, echoing in the hallways. "Good evening, Arthur. May I have a word? Oh, lovely armour." 

Merlin hurries forward. If the princess is indeed like the Lady Morgana... but he's too late. 

"With this line, I thee bind," he hears her say quite distinctly, if hurriedly, "to speak in rhyme, my prince. Till true love’s fist – _kiss!_ – shall at last the spell unwind." 

Merlin arrives in time to witness a smoky flash of gold and a dazed looking Arthur. 

"What did you do to him?" Merlin gasps. 

Princess Juliet turns to him. She looks almost as dazed as Arthur does. "Merlin! You've got the potion, I see. Please do give my thanks to Gaius." She holds out her hand. 

"That's... it?" Merlin relinquishes the bottle, confused. "That doesn't rhyme." 

She blinks at him for a second, as if surprised herself. "It does not!" She smiles genuinely at him and disappears inside her room. 

"Did she just- did the curse just pass onto you?" Merlin frowns at Arthur. 

"Ow," Arthur sways on his feet, "my head. It feels like lead." His eyes snap open wide as he slaps a hand over his mouth. 

Merlin's heart sinks. So much for a reprieve. 

~~ 

"Arthur, come on, get up. Even Gwaine's asking where you are. It's late." 

"You know what I hate?" Arthur pulls on his hair and scrunches his eyes shut against the sun. "All this sorcery surrounding my fate!" 

Merlin deflates a little. So, the spell has not worn off overnight. Gaius is right again. Love spells are so powerful they bind like nobody's business. 

"Maybe kiss Gwen?" Merlin says to Arthur's curved back. "It might work. Break the spell." 

Arthur lifts off the bed in one smooth motion. "Yes! You're right, I'm sure! Guinevere's the cure!" 

Despite the familiar pang in his chest, Merlin grins. "I am never going to forget that you said that. I'm _right_." 

~~ 

Merlin is not right. Arthur kisses Gwen again and again until she pushes him away gently. "Arthur, stop. It's obviously not working." 

"But, but why?" Arthur looks betrayed. "Merlin, you lie!" 

Merlin puts up his hands. "I thought it would work! She said true love's kiss!" He glances at Gwen, sorry to see his friends hurt. "I'm sorry." 

Arthur frowns, staring off to the mid distance. "Maybe it's not a kiss. She did at first say fist. Here, let's try this!" He gestures punching himself out. 

Merlin and Gwen turn to stare at one another. "My lord, you can't be serious!" Gwen twists her hands in her dress. "You're not asking me to hit you." 

"I'll hit you," a voice comes up behind them. 

"Morgana!" Gwen turns in a dizzying spin. "My lady," she curtseys. 

"But why are you asking Gwen to hit you?" Morgana walks up and socks Arthur in the arm, pretty hard judging by the grunt he lets out. 

Merlin winces in sympathy. "Arthur is - erm, building up tolerance! For - for pain!" Merlin blurts out before Arthur could open his mouth to let out more rhymes. 

Arthur looks at him like he's an idiot, which is to say not too different than usual. 

Morgana narrows her eyes at him too. "Isn't that the knights' job? Why not go train with them? Why are you bothering Gwen?" 

"It's no bother, my lady." Gwen says with obvious distress. And Merlin would sympathise more, he would, except Arthur looks like he's about to open his mouth. 

"Great idea, my lady. Brilliant idea!" Merlin puts on his biggest smile and tugs Arthur by his sleeves. 

Thankfully Arthur has wits enough about him to keep quiet until they have turned down the long corridor. "That's your best lie?" He rounds on Merlin. "You didn't even try!" 

"What did he not do this time?" Uther's voice makes them jump apart. 

"I-" Merlin flounders for an idea before he sees Princess Juliet crossing the courtyard below with her nurse. "I didn't try hard enough to organise a ball for her lady Princess Juliet! To... erm, to welcome her to Camelot." He tries for a smile. 

"A ball." Uther stares at him. 

Merlin swallows nervously. "A masquerade ball? I hear the Princess likes dancing." 

Uther waits just long enough to make Merlin sweat under his neckerchief before clapping him on the shoulder. "Good man! We have not had a masquerade ball in ages. I shall look forward to tonight!" 

"Tonight?!" Merlin boggles after Uther's retreating back. 

Arthur's smiling, the prat. "Ha! A dance with a mask! By tonight! Oh, you've got a task! I'm off to train with knights." 

Merlin sighs. This is going to be a long day. 

~~ 

The ball is not half bad, if Merlin does say so himself. So he’s hiding behind his cloak and a lavender mask borrowed from Gwen, but he has a good view of the room. 

Lady Juliet is dancing, radiant and newly un-cursed, flitting in her costume of butterfly wings. It makes Merlin’s fingers itch with magic. His eyes dart around the room. 

King Uther is in the far corner, recognisable from his stance (and crown) as always. He’s deep in conversation with the King Capulet, Juliet’s father. 

Next to them, Merlin spots Arthur in his billowing red cloak looking pinched as he listens to Queen Capulet and the Lady Morgana. 

Nearer, Gaius is chatting with Gwen and Lancelot. Merlin catches Gaius’ raised eyebrows and raises his own back. _What?_

But he knows what. His hands and the back of his eyes are practically burning with gold dust. He wants to hatch real butterflies in his palms and release them into the room. He wants to float candles off their perches to hover above the throne. He wants, he realises with a start, to make this ball _better_. And since when has he started to care about his performance review? 

(He knows when.) 

He groans and downs his cup in one fell swoop. 

“That’s it. Bottoms up!” Gwaine throws an arm around his neck. “Cheers.” 

“Not dancing?” Merlin tips his head at where Princess Juliet is swirling her dress and making some noble laugh. 

“Too rich for my taste.” Gwaine looks instead in Gwen’s direction and raises his cup with a grin. 

She smiles backs sweetly and in the next instant, quite predictably, Lancelot’s asking her to dance. 

Gwaine shakes his head besides Merlin. “Some folk's got all the luck, eh?” 

Before Merlin can reply, there's Arthur with his golden frown. 

“Princess.” Gwaine gives a little bow. 

And Merlin would at least smile at the old joke except there is the Princess herself, right behind Arthur. 

“Princess Juliet,” Merlin straightens up. “Can I get you more wine?” 

“Oh, I’ve had quite enough wine. I was wondering if you would like to dance?” 

Merlin looks to Arthur and then Gwaine, but neither are of any help. Arthur is studiously ignoring him and Gwaine is patting his back like he’s trying to eject something from Merlin’s chest. Perhaps a lung. 

Merlin coughs a little and points to himself. “Me?" 

The princess nods and smiles, like she’s humouring a small child. 

Merlin turns to Arthur, but as he has been all night, Arthur is quiet. So he shrugs and takes the lady’s hand. 

“Is he still rhyming?” Princess Juliet asks so suddenly Merlin almost tripped over air. 

“Are we really talking about the curse you passed onto him?” He stares her down. 

Princess Juliet's smile falters. “Maybe it's not a curse if it will free his heart.” 

“Can you undo it? His tongue is bound. Uther is minutes from finding out about the sorcery. And Arthur can’t very well go around courting ladies sounding like a fool.” 

“You don’t think he’s a fool.” She spins around Merlin and looks steadily up at him as he dips her. “You think he’s quite something, don’t you?” 

“It doesn’t matter what I think!" Merlin blushes a little - it must be the wine. “I’m just his manservant.” 

"No." Princess Juliet looks at him, enigmatic as always. "Sorry, Merlin. What's done is done. What is is." 

~~ 

Arthur grabs him as soon as he returns from the dance floor and ushers him wordlessly out of the room. 

"She can’t undo it," Merlin says as soon as they have brushed past the guards and turned a couple of corners and out to the balcony to relative privacy. 

"Didn't expect it to be easy." Arthur looks out at the dark outlines of the forest then back intensely at Merlin’s face. "What did she want with you the lady?" 

"She... wanted to dance?" Merlin shrugs then lights up, grinning. "Told you she liked dancing." 

"You were cosy, pressed palm to palm. Didn't that set off an alarm? She cursed me. You’re next maybe." 

Merlin lifts his eyebrows. "Me? Why would she bother with me?" 

Arthur scrutinises his face. "Why indeed?" He takes a step closer to Merlin so that they're toe to toe. 

Merlin holds his breath. Arthur's eyes are most expressive, especially this close up. 

"I need more mead," Arthur blurts, as if he can't help himself not to finish the rhyme. He sighs and brushes past. 

Merlin shivers. Without Arthur's heat there to buffer him against the night, he's starting to feel the nip in the air. 

"It's not fair," Merlin says to the night, to no one. "He never asked to be born a Pendragon. Dark magic and sheer jealousy keep trying to take him down, but he's better than that. He's going to be great, in fact. Gods, now _I'm_ rhyming." 

"Merlin?" 

Merlin almost jumps right off the balcony in his surprise. "Yes, mead! Coming!" 

When he pushes past, Arthur is looking at him funny. 

~~ 

Merlin is gathering up the day's laundry and stuffing them unceremoniously deeper into the basket when Arthur clears his throat. 

"What?" Merlin pops his head out of the wardrobe. 

Arthur is sitting on his bed, arms crossed over his chest and a serious expression on his face. 

"A question. It's silly. But would you say you love me?" 

Merlin laughs because what? "You know the people of Camelot loves you. Perhaps even too much, seeing as how-" 

"Enough digression." Arthur gets up and strides purposefully towards him. "That was not my question." 

Merlin fiddles with the tunic in his hands. "Well, I don't just polish _anyone's_ armour." 

"That's your _job_." Arthur looks on edge as he advances. 

Merlin trips over nothing and knocks his knuckles on the hardwood, which hurts more than it looks like it should. "All right! All right. Yes. Is that what you want to hear? I will stand by your side and protect you with my dying breath. I will serve you, Arthur, till the very last." 

Arthur is staring at his hand like seeing a three headed snake for the first time. "Fist," he says as he takes Merlin's hand in his. 

"What?" Merlin looks down and yes, his hand is still in a fist but he doesn't see what that has to do with anything. 

Arthur makes a frustrated sound. "You really are an idiot, Merlin." He brings the said fist up and barely brushes it with his lips. "Does it hurt?" 

Merlin stares and stares - Arthur's lips are softer than he expects - before something suddenly registers. "You're not rhyming! It's stopped!" He grins. 

"Because of you. You made it stop." Arthur says earnestly. 

And Merlin almost has a heart attack. Is he discovered then? Is this how he goes? How did he even magic away the curse? He's sure he didn't do anything this time. 

"Merlin, breathe!" Arthur's thumping him on the back and yes, that's more familiar. 

He breathes. 

Arthur is still holding his hand - his… fist. Merlin's eyes round. Oh. That then. His other secret. 

Arthur shuffles closer until there's no space in between them. Arthur settles his other hand on Merlin's side, his waist, and it's almost like they're dancing. 

Merlin swallows and leans his forehead against Arthur's, drawing comfort from the ragged breath Arthur's taking in too. He's not alone in this. 

"I was jealous. You liked her." Arthur accuses him. 

"The princess? She's beautiful." Merlin can't help teasing. 

Arthur's pout is more endearing up close. More… kissable. 

So Merlin does, just a light press there. _Sorry_. 

Only Arthur's not taking an apology if he can get a serenade. He dives right in and pulls at Merlin's lower lip. And yes, yes, Merlin would gladly sing for this. 

He kisses back, licking, eager. It knocks a moan out of Arthur, a sound that shoots right down Merlin's trousers. He throws a leg around Arthur, trying to get closer. 

Arthur encourages him, holding him up against his hips and half carries him to bed. Merlin doesn't swoon, but if he did this would be when. Arthur's bed feels hot with Arthur pressing him down to it, hot palms and eager mouth. 

Merlin smiles around a kiss and wind their hands together. "Look - palm to palm," he holds their hands up for Arthur to see. 

"Idiot." Arthur presses that palm up above Merlin's head and kisses his breath away. 

Merlin forgets about princesses and jealousy and rocks up in time to help the friction between them grow and grow, and ah- 

"Arthur!" He cries out as he spills between them. 

Arthur keeps going, a smirk riding his lips. And Merlin can't help but help, pressing the heel of his hand down at just at the right spot, fitting Arthur in his fist as he twists and twists, twists the pleasure right out of him. 

~~ 

"Up and at them." 

Merlin groans and burrows deeper into the sheets. 

"Rise and shine!" 

He presses his hands to his ears and turns away. 

Lips press against his neck and sucks wetly, obnoxiously. 

Merlin's eyes fly wide open. Red. He's surrounded in red sheets. Arthur. Right. Last night happened. 

Arthur's rough chin rubs against the sensitive skin of his neck. He will have another use for his neckerchief now. Merlin groans, for many reasons. Not the least of which is that Arthur's hands are too clever, as good with the swords as he is with… Merlin's. 

They arrive so late to breakfast that Merlin cannot look anyone in the eyes. Not Gwen, not Gaius, especially not Princess Juliet, who compliments him on his neckerchief and throws him a wink. 

~~ 

Merlin could feel Uther's sighs from all the way across Arthur. 

"The Capulets would have made a great alliance." 

"Yes, father." 

Merlin looks at their departing back, Princess Juliet's hair as magical as ever and smiles to himself. After all, Arthur is discreetly bumping into him, brushing their hands together, just for a second, palm to reassuring palm. 


End file.
